Isaac drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair. Simon stood in the middle of the room, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground. They'd been in these positions for the past ten minutes while Simon recounted everything that had happened in the past few days—despite Isaac being there for most of it.
"Am I overreacting here?" Simon asked.
"I think your reaction is reasonable, given the circumstances," Isaac said. "But Negan is in charge. What he says goes."
Simon nodded, wiping at his face.
Ever since Isaac had joined up with the Saviors and been assigned to Simon's crew, he had quickly become the man's closest confidant—not without considerable effort, of course. Isaac knew that if he was going to have any chance of getting close to Negan, he would need to start with Simon. And so, the uphill battle began. He indulged Simon's frustrations and lent an understanding ear, careful not to nudge him too far. Not before it was time.
"Alexandria, Hilltop, the Kingdom—we need to set an example for future business transactions," Simon said. "You agree?"
"Of course, I agree," Isaac said. "People can't get the wrong idea about what it is we do here."
"And yet, Negan has us sitting on our asses, twiddling our thumbs while Alexandria gets away, and Hilltop just continues on like nothing ever happened—minus a mouth to feed," Simon ground out. "This is not setting a very good precedent."
"And then there's the trash people," Isaac commented.
The trash people had come to Sanctuary, armed and following Rick Grimes, clearly having reneged on their deal. Unfortunately for Rick Grimes and company, Sanctuary had already taken care of the walkers Anna had set on them.
The thought of Anna set Isaac on edge. She'd been clever in her plan; he was certain it would have worked had it not been for the garbage truck currently embedded in the side of the building, and Eugene. He was also sure that she had something to do with Alexandria's escape.
"I should talk to him," Simon said, bringing Isaac back to the conversation.
"It wouldn't hurt. After all," Isaac said, getting to his feet and patting Simon on the shoulder. "You're his right-hand guy."
A knock at the door called their attention.
"Come in," Isaac called.
Gary opened the door and leaned in.
"Negan wants to see you, Simon," he informed.
Simon huffed and nodded before turning to Isaac.
"Thank you for your wise counsel," he said, patting Isaac on the arm before he walked out of the room.
Isaac shook his head and started down to the stairs, shutting his door behind him. Gary followed as they went down to floor level where the rest of the Satellite crew was gathered, aside from a few others who had gone out to get the trucks together.
"All right. Simon's talking to the big man, then we'll head out," Isaac announced.
"What are we going to do about these assholes?" One man, who Isaac had never bothered learning the name of, asked.
"Whatever Negan tells us to do," Isaac said simply.
"Isaac!"
He turned to see the three who were gathering the trucks walking inside carrying a familiar wooden box. It was the same one they'd left with Maggie last night. Groans and a struggle came from within, making it difficult for the men to hold it.
"Hand me that nail gun over there. Is it charged?" Isaac asked, gesturing to the nail gun sitting on the table.
Gary handed him the nail gun and Isaac approached the box, spotting some writing on the cover.
We have 38 more. Stand down.
"Let's take this to Negan. He'll want to see it," Isaac said, forcing himself not to smirk.
Gary looked at him, more than a little confused. Isaac ignored him and led the men up the stairs and to the conference room, where he knew Negan and Simon would be. He knocked.
"Yeah?" Negan called after a moment.
Isaac pushed the door open and made room for the others to set the coffin on the table as he put down the nail gun.
"What the hell is that?" Negan asked as Simon got to his feet.
"A delivery from the Hilltop," Isaac explained. "Brought you something to deal with it. It's charged."
"Out," Negan said as he stood. "Except you, Isaac."
Gary and the other two left the room, shutting the door behind them as Negan picked up the nail gun. He read the lid before looking at Simon, who pulled his knife. Isaac helped him pull the lid free of its bindings, the walker within attempting to force its way out.
"Little bit more," Negan said, and they pushed the lid further off.
Negan immediately began firing nails into the walker's skull, and Isaac recognized him as one of theirs from the Satellite outpost.
"That's Shaw," Simon said. "That means the other thirty-eight that the Hilltop is holding are from the Satellite Outpost. Those are my people. I'm gonna kill every last one of those farmers!"
"You will do exactly what I asked," Negan corrected.
"We can't let 'em get away with this shit," Simon snapped just before Negan slammed Lucille against the table.
"You will do your job," Negan shouted.
Simon shifted on his feet, clicking his teeth and glancing between Isaac, Shaw's corpse, and Negan before nodding.
"All right, get to it," Negan said, shooing Simon off. "Isaac, I have a job for you."
Isaac watched as Eugene examined the equipment meticulously, commenting here and there about the quality and cleanliness until he stopped in the middle of the work floor and turned to Isaac.
"This will be satisfactory," he said, his face expressionless.
Isaac nodded and gestured for Eugene's workers and soldiers to take up their stations. They carted in the buckets and bins filled with bullet casings. Eugene set to work on sorting them before he walked up to Isaac.
"So, you're the head of my security detail?" Eugene asked.
"No. I was just supposed to get you set up, then head back to HQ," Isaac said as he pointed out Regina. "Regina over there will be your head of security."
"Then I suppose I no longer require your services," Eugene said, giving a single nod. "Thank you for your assistance."
Isaac cocked a brow at him and turned to leave before a question came to mind and he looked back at him.
"I spoke with Gabriel—before he decided to leave us," Isaac began.
Eugene stiffened.
"Is that so?" The portly man asked.
"He said there was a woman in charge of the plan that had us on the ropes," Isaac said carefully. "Someone named Anna?"
"I am aware of Anna," Eugene said.
"Do you think she'll try something else?" Isaac asked.
"Given the nature of her stubbornness—that is, down right—it is within the realm of possibilities that she will attempt another strategy to have us, as you said, on the ropes," Eugene rambled. "Anna Wycoff is not the type to give in easily."
"Well, I suppose we'll just have to outsmart her," Isaac said, grinning. "You think that's possible?"
"Well," Eugene grimaced. "As Negan has demonstrated, he is an adept strategist—however, Anna spent roughly seven months training with the military, and I am certain that training involved wartime strategy. My hypothesis is that, while it is possible, it will take a hell of a lot of foresight."
Isaac's brows shot up as he stared at Eugene.
Military?
That had to have been after their time together. He supposed it was plausible that those soldiers who had attacked them would take her in after seeing the state of her. He shook his head, pulling himself from his thoughts.
"I guess it's a good thing you're on our side," Isaac said, patting Eugene on the shoulder before walking away.
Isaac pulled the car into the depot, parking just as Simon pulled in behind him in the moving truck. They climbed out of their respective vehicles and stood together as Negan joined them.
"Got it done?" Negan asked as Gary hurried away.
"That and then some," Simon assured.
The three walked to the back of the truck as Gary opened the door.
"You good?" Simon asked.
"Nothing on Gavin," Negan sighed.
"Want us to turn back around, roll out, end the mystery?" Simon offered.
"I already sent a team out there," Negan said.
"Ah," Simon mused, nodding his head. "Well, I'm sure he's A-okay. And if not, we'll just send another message."
"So, tell me how it went," Negan requested, choosing to ignore the underhanded comment.
"Standard message and delivery," he said, shrugging. "Showed 'em and told 'em. There was remorse."
"Negan."
They turned to see D.J. walking up.
"Yeah. What is it?" Negan asked.
"It's Rick," D.J. said, holding up the long-range walkie.
Negan glanced between Simon and Isaac before taking the walkie and walking off. Gary and D.J. began unloading the truck and Simon gestured for Isaac to follow him.
"So, what really happened?" Isaac asked knowingly.
"The garbage people won't be a problem anymore," Simon said, looking around to be sure no one was listening.
"Simon," Isaac said, frowning at him.
"They're all dead. All of 'em," he said, looking him in the eye.
Isaac blinked at him, unsure if he should believe what he was hearing. He didn't believe in luck, but sometimes things just happened so perfectly he couldn't quite deny its existence—like the time he'd managed to survive a bullet from close range; he'd come across a guy with medical know-how who could patch him up. Now, Simon was openly admitting to defying Negan? It was like Christmas.
He opened his mouth to say something reassuring, to convince Simon that what he'd done was the right thing, but Negan interrupted them.
"Isaac," Negan said, walking up to them. "Making an unexpected delivery to the bullet factory. You're driving."
Isaac nodded, and started toward the car as a sweating father Gabriel was ushered into the backseat. He could feel Simon's eyes on his back, but he knew the man trusted him not to say anything to Negan.
Following Negan through the building to the work floor, Isaac led Gabriel by the arm as he stumbled on unsure feet. Negan threw the double doors open and the workers, soldiers, and Negan's red-headed wife immediately fell to their knees.
"Lookie what I found," he said, laughing. "And he told me a very interesting story about how he made his way out of our lovely home."
Eugene stood, putting his protective glasses in his blue coat as Negan made his way over. Isaac sat Gabriel down at an empty sorting station.
"It was Carson," Gabriel said weakly.
"Did I call it or what?" Negan grinned.
"I am agog," Eugene said, staring at Gabriel. "But why bring him here?"
"Well, you need an extra set of hands to sort out those bullet casings, right?" Negan asked. "Apparently, his eyes don't work for shit, but he does have a set of hands."
"We'll see if it helps," Eugene huffed. "I only have a few bullets as it is—quality munitions, but the quantity is full-on scant. It's still gonna be a few more days before we have any sort of supply to speak of."
Negan inhaled and sucked on his teeth as he frowned at Eugene's news.
"See, Eugene…," Negan began as Isaac approached, "that simply doesn't work for me."
"I think a more biblical approach for maximum fright may be in order," Eugene suggested. "We could rig several medieval-style catapults, start launching undead arms, legs, torsos over their defenses. Maybe heads or, you know, big piles of guts. You know, pure psych-ops. I mean, there's some really traumatic theatrics there."
Negan stared at him for a moment, tongue-in-cheek as he shot a glance at Isaac.
"Thank you," he said, looking back to Eugene. "I do believe a rose just sprang out of that pile of shit. Let's roll," Negan called. "Big day tomorrow."
He chuckled and started back outside, whistling as he went. Isaac nodded at Eugene before following after him. The two climbed back inside the car and Isaac steered them toward Sanctuary.
Isaac drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, hoping Negan would notice his apparent nerves.
"You gonna talk, or are you just gonna sit there pissin' your pants the whole way back?" Negan asked, not bothering to look over from the window.
Isaac huffed a nervous sort of laugh before taking a deep breath.
"It's about Simon," he started.
"What about Simon?" Negan asked, finally turning to look at him.
"I didn't want to be the one to tell you—"
"Cut to the chase, Isaac," Negan snapped.
"Simon killed the trash people," Isaac rushed out. "He told me before you and I left for the factory."
Negan was quiet for a long time, facing forward and glaring out the front window.
"And why are you just telling me this now?" He asked.
"I wanted to give Simon a chance to come clean—he's my friend, you know? But," Isaac shook his head. "I realize he's not going to admit to what he did."
Negan fell silent again, nodding as the gears turned in his head.
"We're going to pretend that you didn't tell me a damn thing, got it?" He said.
"What are you going to do?" Isaac asked, glancing at Negan only briefly before putting his eyes back on the road.
"Oh, I've got plans. Don't you worry your pretty head about it," Negan said, grinning.
Isaac nodded, doing his best to keep the satisfied smirk off his face.
Standing at the front of the crowd of soldiers, Isaac leaned against a wall with Simon beside him, watching Negan walk back and forth in front of three walkers chained to the fence. They reached out and snarled for the food just out of reach.
"You all know how it works," Negan finally began, facing the crowd. "You get a bite, some kind of wound from one of these things, something from them gets in you, and you die. You join the club…, which sucks." He began pacing again. "What if we could use that to our advantage?"
He swung around, and whipped his bat across one walker's face, then against the shoulder before jabbing it in the diaphragm. Blood seeped out of its wounds. Negan pressed Lucille against the wounds, rubbing the wood and barbs into the walker's flesh.
"Ah, you see how Lucille is getting to know our beautiful, cold friend here?" He asked, pulling the bat away to rub it into the walker's diaphragm. "That's it," he chuckled, turning back to them.
He held Lucille out for them to see, blood and gore hanging off of the barbs in a familiar way. A deep frown settled over Isaac's face.
"Look… at… that," Negan said. "No more smashin' and bashin'. With this—Well, this, it can just be a touch. Or a big, wet kiss. Either way, this gets you full membership, and that's what we want. We want people to join the club," he cheered. "Hilltop is gonna learn to toe the line one way or another, dead or alive… or some kinda shit in between."
Isaac had to operate under the assumption that Anna still had someone on the inside feeding her information. He had to assume she was going to know about this plan. But what he couldn't fathom was a way she could possibly circumvent this. One thing was for certain—he needed the war to keep going.
Your friends better keep fighting, Annie.